Saturday, November 13, 2010
It was snowing outside but she knew she'd never feel the cold. She would be whisked from her penthouse apartment into a heated car so fast that she wouldn't even need a wrap.
She hadn't always been rich; deep in her consciousness was a visceral memory of cold and hunger; of nearly freezing to death on nights like these. She'd hungered for everything in those days; she'd dreamed of living warm and protected. She smiled, graciously acknowledging her host and benefactor.
It was a different kind of cold.
© 2010 Cynthia Newcomer Daniel. Swarovski crystals and seed beads. Pattern available in my Artfire and Etsy Shops.